


Flowers of Flesh and Blood

by Ihungerforbrains



Series: The Consequence of All Things [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Imperius, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Virginity, Malfoy Manor, Not Epilogue Compliant, Part of a larger series eventually, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-11-28 06:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihungerforbrains/pseuds/Ihungerforbrains
Summary: In which a small mercy changes two lives forever. An alternate version of what happened at the Malfoy Manor in Deathly Hallows.Contains graphic rape. You have been warned.UPDATE: Now contains non-graphic version. If you are uncomfortable with non-con, but want to read this before moving onto "The Consequence of All Things", only read the first chapter.





	1. NON-EXPLICIT VERSION

 

**Flowers of Flesh and Blood**

* * *

 

In which a small mercy changes two lives forever.

* * *

This is the **non-explicit** version of _Flowers of Flesh and Blood_ , requested by several people, however, it contains swearing, violence, and mentions of non-consensual sex. The explicit version is chapter two.

*Please continue to read at your own risk*

There is the first in the “Consequence of All Things” series I am writing dealing with the aftermath of this incident.

* * *

 

**Malfoy Manor - Easter Holiday**

 

Dobby, former house elf of the Malfoy family, had just vanished the chain on the wall when the crystal chandelier shattered into a million brilliant little pieces on the marble floor of the parlor. In the chaos, Ron ran to Hermione, pulling her away from the grasp of Bellatrix who was standing in shock at the events unfolding. He dragged her next to the fireplace as spells flew overhead, gripping Hermione’s hand and repeating “Are you ok, are you ok,” over and over again.

“Ron, Hermione, let’s go!” Harry yelled as he ran to Ron, grasped his hand, and pulled the sword of Gryffindor tighter against himself. From his perch on the mantle, Dobby pulled Harry’s shirt and started to Disapparate out of the Manor.

Hermione felt the pull of the Disapparation, but within a fraction of a second, Ron’s fingers slipped from hers as Bellatrix’s spell dragged her away from him and back towards its caster.

His hand still outstretched and her name of his lips, Ron disappeared leaving Hermione alone in the hands of the enemy.

* * *

 

Draco sat stiffly in his chair, hands twisting and pulling at each other in his lap as he contemplated what he was going to do next.

After Potter and Weasley had Disapparated, his mother had healed the cuts along his face and neck from the destroyed chandelier, ordering the house elves to clean the mess the battle had caused. Aunt Bellatrix and the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, had taken the barely conscious Granger back down to the cellar to continue the interrogation.

By nightfall, her screams had finally stopped, and Bellatrix ascended looking deranged with flecks of blood and a twisted sneer on her face. Pulling her chair out, she had sat with them for supper, and his father demanded to know what knowledge she had ascertained.

“Patience, Lucius, these things take time. And the Dark Lord has given me all the time I need.” She was humming as she sipped her soup.

Draco had grimaced, no longer hungry, and excused himself from the table. He was halfway to his rooms in the south wing when he heard a voice coming from a guest room.

“... got all night with the pretty little Mudblood. Bet she’ll moan real good fer me, too. All of them are right sluts underneath,” the voice of Fenrir Greyback rumbled, and Draco moved closer to the partially closed door, looking through the crack, his curiosity getting the better of him.  

“Bu-bu-but the Dark Lord left it to Bellatrix to get information from the girl. It won’t do if she’s too damaged, Greyback,” came the simpering voice of Wormtail who fretted about the room like an uncaged rat.

“I’m not gonna kill her, ya dungheap, just play with her a bit, maybe get a little bite in. Virgins always taste the best.” And with that Draco darted from his spot, half-running to his rooms and shutting the door with shaking hands.

At half past eleven he finally stood from his chair, straightened his back and headed to the cellar.

* * *

 

“Granger?” His whisper seemed terribly loud in the silence of the cellar stairwell. He descended quickly, wishing to be in and out with Granger in tow before his aunt was the wiser. What Greyback was planning for the muggleborn...Draco couldn’t stand the thought of it. Granger was the worst sort of know-it-all swot and smug mudblood, but did anyone deserve what the werewolf was planning to do to her? He had considered it for hours before he finally rose to action.

When Draco reached the bottom, the scene before him caused him to immediately halt. With his wand at the ready, he stood immobile in shock and disgust. Granger, still bloodied and shackled to the stone wall, knelt before Greyback. The werewolf leaned against the wall between her chains, his eyes half closed, tongue licking his thin lips in pleasure.

With a growl resonating from deep within his chest, he grabbed a handful of Hermione’s unruly hair and pulled her head off him. Her mouth remained open, wet and glistening with spit, yet her dark eyes turned and bore into Draco’s, tear-filled and pleading. 

It only took Greyback a moment to follow her gaze to the foot of the stairs. "Wot the fuck do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?" 

As if blasted with an ice water hex, Draco came to his senses. He brought his wand up to _stupify_ the werewolf, but he was too slow. It was suddenly wrenched from his hand and clattered across the cavernous cellar. In the span of a heartbeat, Draco dove to the ground for his wand, but again, Fenrir and his werewolf reflexes were faster. It was within a fingertip's reach, yet Draco fell short onto the uneven stone floor. His chin hit it hard and split open when the werewolf landed on top of him.

"Isn't this just darling,” Greyback purred in his ear. “Here to rescue the damsel, lover boy? Answer me!" Draco panted as his arm was twisted painfully behind him, feeling as if it were about to snap.

"Yes," Draco hissed, and the powerful arm gripping his elbow pulled harder until he cried out. Greyback didn’t speak for a few moments, just breathed heavily as he lay across Draco’s back, and unexpectedly loosened his grip.

With a dark chuckle, Greyback dug his wand into Draco’s throat. "I think I have a better idea. _Imperio_!"

The dark magic of the curse coursed through him with the power of an unstoppable train engine, and Draco gasped when it struck his mind. He was at once floating away from his body with the vaguest sense that he was in pain. The terror and anxiety that had just filled him seemed so distant and obscure he wasn’t sure why he had felt it at all.

Hopping to his feet, the werewolf meandered to the wall where Hermione was still on her knees. "Both of you stand up," he ordered.

_NO!_ A voice screamed, small and terror-filled, in the back of Draco’s mind, but as much as he tried to fight it, his body did as it was commanded, and he stood up from where he lay sprawled on the stone. Hermione’s chains rattled as she rose as well.

Greyback brought his wand to each of her shackled wrists, releasing her. His smirk became wider as his eyes raked over her disheveled figure. "Take your clothes off. Both of you." 

Again his body betrayed him as his mind protested, and Draco's hands began pulling off his jumper, unbuttoning his trousers, untying his shoelaces. At the last piece, his hands shook as his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. His eyes remained on the grey stone of the cellar floor as he heard the rustle of clothing being tossed aside, indicating Granger had finished disrobing as well.

“C’mere, Malfoy,” the werewolf growled, and he obeyed, his bare feet padding softly to the wall where Granger had been chained. Looking up, he saw Greyback towering over her.

_He's going to rape her,_ was Draco's dull thought, only remotely aware of the panic spreading in the back of his mind and causing his breath to quicken.

“You ever been with a woman before? Tell me the truth, boy.”

His mind fuzzily flipped through memories of fumbling hands in the dark, hurried kisses and smooth, soft skin. Early last summer Pansy had allowed him to take off her shirt, to touch and lick her breasts and weigh them in his hands. That had been the furthest they'd gone in that summer that seemed a lifetime ago. Draco doubted that was what Greyback meant.   

“No,” was his mechanical response.

Greyback sneered and continued his assault on Granger’s body. Despite her cut and swollen lip and the word carved into her forearm, she was otherwise unharmed.

Outwardly, anyway.

It seemed his aunt Bella’s torture had been mostly magical; that type of dark magic left invisible scars, he knew. She was thinner than he recalled her ever being.

“When I was yer age, I’d already fucked a dozen girls,” Greyback said, and to Draco's mild surprise, he took a step backward, his long finger nails rasping over Granger’s flesh before pulling away altogether.

“I’m going to do you a kindness, boy. Had planned on takin’ her myself,” Greyback’s face contorted into a cruel smile, “but this is gonna be much more entertaining.” With that, the werewolf seized Draco, pulling him closer to the immobile girl. Now he stood facing her, a half-head taller and close enough to feel her hot breath on his collarbone.

_No, no no…._ Draco’s mind chanted like a incantation, as if it could stop the way his body was reacting, stop the dark magic suppressing his free will.

“Like what you see, then?” Grey back sneered.

Their eyes met for the second time since Draco had entered the damnable cellar. Granger’s brows were creased, her brown eyes wide-open and haunting in their abject panic. He knew she too was silently screaming, her mind rallying pointlessly against a body that would not obey. She was trapped, muted, terrified. Just like him. He could see himself reflected in those chocolate pools, see his expression frozen in dread. A mirror to hers.

"Are you a virgin, Hermione?" The debauched creature mockingly asked her, and she gave a little nod of affirmation. Her head was down now, her face flush and warm.

The werewolf chuckled and licked his lips obscenely. His dark eyes twinkled with malice as he said, “Love the flavor of a virgin. They taste so sweet and innocent.

“Now before we start, take this,” Greyback reached into his trouser pocket and he handed Draco a small stoppered vial filled with mint green liquid. ”Nicked it from yer father’s stores. Go on, drink up.” And he did, the fluid going down smoothly and tasting of the briny sea. “Was gonna use it myself, but change of plans.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Can you imagine what ol’ Lucius would say if he saw what you two was doin’ down here? His pretty pureblood son with a Mudblood?”

He grabbed a handful of Draco’s pale hair, pulling him far enough back that his neck was exposed. “What d’you think he’d do, huh? Worthless coward always looking down on me with that damn sneer.” The werewolf lowered his face so that he was looking directly into Draco’s unblinking grey eyes, a growl rumbling in his throat. “When the full moon comes, I’m lookin’ for you, boy. See if your old man keeps sneering when his son is just like me.”  

Greyback released his hair and took a step backward, and Draco strang upright again. “She’s ready enough. Hermione, lay down. Draco, show this Mudblood how it ought to be."

Hysterically, his mind shouted, _Don’t do this, stop! Grab your wand, stun him, punch him, run! Don’t do this..._ but soon after Granger had laid on the frigid stone ground, Draco followed, laying on top of her, his skin burning where they touched. He stopped for the briefest of seconds and gazed down at her.

The part of him that was sealed in the back of his own head tried to convey to her through his eyes how sorry he was, how he didn’t want this to happen either, how he was trying so very hard to free himself of this dark power. If she understood any of that, her own brown eyes did not give any indication as they stared above him, unseeing.

How many nights had he lay on his bed, stroking himself and imagining his hand was the wet, pulsing sheath of a woman? In his fantasies, the woman he plunged into was willing and wanton, her eyes hooded in pleasure while she moaned delightfully in time with his ministrations. Sex was an act of passion, heated and erotic. This was nothing like that. This act was bloodless, devoid of life and fire. The woman beneath him wasn’t supposed to be motionless and crying, wasn’t supposed to be clutching him out of pain and not pleasure. It was wrong, all wrong...

Draco gave in to the euphoria of the curse and let his mind drift away. A chaotic collection of images flashed through his brain - his parents’ terrified faces; Pansy’s small, pert breasts; his fingers reaching for the snitch.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before his mental disassociation came to sudden end.

After what seemed like a lifetime, he fell upon her in sweaty exhaustion, his heart beating too loudly in his ears. Draco’s body was still buzzing with pleasure, his mind simultaneously elated and horrified at what he had done. Tears stung his eyes unwillingly as he heaved himself up to lay at her side.

_Rape_. He had committed rape. The girl beside him was silent and unmoving. He would have thought her asleep if not for the rapid rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed.

“Lasted longer than I thought you would,” Greyback sniggered to his right, and Draco turned his eyes from Hermione to glance at him. “With that draught I gave you, we’ll be able to have fun all night,” Greyback informed him as he positioned himself above Hermione. “But for now, it’s my turn.”

“Fuck!” Draco jumped at the beast’s sudden exclamation, listening as Greyback stood and hurriedly dressed himself. He saw the werewolf gripping his arm as he passed on the way to the cellar stairs. "Now, how about you two take a little rest and don't go nowhere. I'll be back soon," he said grumpily, the door slamming shut behind him.

Draco couldn’t tell how much time had passed he lay there shivering and waiting. Nothing moved around them, nor sounds were heard above them as they lay naked, dreadfully awaiting their tormentor’s return. The chill from the freezing stones crept up from his naked backside through his body, leaving him shivering uncontrollably.  

Suddenly, something moved to Draco’s left, sending a thrill of terror through the fog of the _Imperius_ curse _. He’s back!_ He thought and squished his eyes shut in trepidation. There was a shuffling beside him, a soft feminine cry, more shuffling.  

"Malfoy!" A hoarse voice whispered urgently above him and an icy hand gripped his shoulder. His eyes fly open, gazing at the pale, determined face of Hermione. _How…?_ His befogged mind pondered. Her hand shook his shoulder harder. “Draco, please, you have to fight the curse. We need to get out of here. He’ll be back soon. Please, get up!"  

Draco watched as she draped his shirt over his privates and knelt at his side. Hermione hovered over him, whispering encouragement to help break the curse’s hold. “Just concentrate! Focus on your own mind, your own body. Try wiggling your fingers, your toes. You need to try harder!”

But through all of her words and his efforts, Draco’s mind refused to yield to his control. _Move, move, MOVE!_ He mentally screamed, his toe just barely twitching. His body continued to remain utterly unmoving under Greyback’s last command to stay put.

Her whispers were becoming frantic. “Please, PLEASE! If you don’t….I don’t know how to get out of here, and he’ll be back soon...”

Draco’s heart jumped. _No!_ He screamed, unheard, and doubled his efforts to be free of the dark curse that restrained his free-will. The fog shifted and changed, seemingly gripping him tighter as he made every effort to be free. As he fought, his thoughts were becoming louder, less disjointed and vague. His own mind came sharply into focus as he came back to himself fully and with it the pain and terror of what had happened. His chin and arm throbbed, his body numb and half frozen.

Draco snapped upwards, knocking over Hermione who was still hovering over him. “Gran...ger…” he stammered as she scrambled up to retrieve his clothing. Draco stiffly stood and put them on as she looked away, gripping his wand in her hand.

“I didn’t think you would...nevermind. We need to get out of here,” Hermione stated, rushing forward toward the stairs. Draco grabbed her arm to stop her, but she pulled back. “Don’t touch me!,” she nearly shrieked, pointing his wand at his face, her expression one of panic.

“Not that way,” Draco said, turning his back to her and heading to the furthest corner in the back of the cellar. Hermione stared at him curiously as he knocked three times and placed his hand upon the stone, leaning near it to whisper an incantation. A small circle of green light formed and slowly expanded, becoming brighter when the circle's diameter reached two meters. The light extinguished suddenly, and in its place was a circular hole leading to a downwards sloping tunnel.

Hermione stepped closer, looking down into the dark pit. “Where does -”

“The tunnel will lead you deep under the grounds of the Manor. You’ll find a small teacup there. It’s a portkey. It will take you to our safehouse in Cornwall. You can apparate from there,” Draco stated, turning his back to her and walking towards the stairs.  

“Wait,” she murmured, clutching his shoulder. Draco felt her cold hand through the fabric of his jumper. "Come with me. When they find me missing, they’re going to -"

"I can’t leave my parents,” he interrupts, shrugging her hand from him without turning around. “What do you think He’ll will do to them if i go missing, too?"

“Draco, you-”

“Just go!” He nearly shouts, and after a moment’s pause, he hears her lift herself into the tunnel and disappear into its depths. In a flash of light, the hole becomes solid stone once again.

_My wand..._ Draco briefly laments as he numbly walks up the stairs to the cellar door.

* * *

 

A/N -

 

Besides changing the scene of what happened at Malfoy Manor and Harry NOT stealing Draco’s wand, this story is compliant with Deathly Hallows except for the epilogue. I also know that with the Imperius curse, people have no control over their eyes, but I changed that a bit here. They can move their eyes, but nothing else and still have the euphoric, out-of-body feeling.

Rape victims deal with trauma differently from one to the next. Hermione, IMO, would suppress the memory of the incident to prioritize finding and destroying the hallows and keep it from her friends so they wouldn’t get distracted from the mission. This repression will come to a head in the next story.

I know some people will be very upset with the fact that I decided to write the rape from Draco’s POV rather than Hermione’s. I needed to convey what his motivations were for going down to free her, and that this terrible experience was also against his will - he was also raped. There will be A LOT more of Hermione’s POV in the sequel, and we’ll find out the ramifications of this act then.   


	2. EXPLICIT VERSION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the EXPLICIT NON-CON version of the same story.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/155387390@N04/27732251509/in/dateposted-public/)

**Flowers of Flesh and Blood**

* * *

In which a small mercy changes two lives forever.

* * *

This fic contains non-consensual sex. Please continue to read at your own risk.

There is the first in the “Consequence of All Things” series I have planned dealing with the aftermath of this incident.

This work has not been Beta'ed so please forgive the discrepancies and grammatical errors. Contact me if you would like beta ^_^ I would really appreciate the help.

 

* * *

**Malfoy Manor - Easter Holiday**

 

Dobby, former house elf of the Malfoy family, had just vanished the chain on the wall when the crystal chandelier shattered into a million brilliant little pieces on the marble floor of the parlor. In the chaos, Ron ran to Hermione, pulling her away from the grasp of Bellatrix who was standing in shock at the events unfolding. He dragged her next to the fireplace as spells flew overhead, gripping Hermione’s hand and repeating “Are you ok, are you ok,” over and over again.

“Ron, Hermione, let’s go!” Harry yelled as he ran to Ron, grasped his hand, and pulled the sword of Gryffindor tighter against himself. From his perch on the mantle, Dobby pulled Harry’s shirt and started to Disapparate out of the Manor.

Hermione felt the pull of the Disapparation, but within a fraction of a second, Ron’s fingers slipped from hers as Bellatrix’s spell dragged her away from him and back towards its caster.

His hand still outstretched and her name of his lips, Ron disappeared leaving Hermione alone in the hands of the enemy.

\----

Draco sat stiffly in his chair, hands twisting and pulling at each other in his lap as he contemplated what he was going to do next.

After Potter and Weasley had Disapparated, his mother had healed the cuts along his face and neck from the destroyed chandelier, ordering the house elves to clean the mess the battle had caused. Aunt Bellatrix and the werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, had taken the barely conscious Granger back down to the cellar to continue the interrogation.

By nightfall, her screams had finally stopped, and Bellatrix ascended looking deranged with flecks of blood and a twisted sneer on her face. Pulling her chair out, she had sat with them for supper, and his father demanded to know what knowledge she had ascertained.

“Patience, Lucius, these things take time. And the Dark Lord has given me all the time I need.” She was humming as she sipped her soup.

Draco had grimaced, no longer hungry, and excused himself from the table. He was halfway to his rooms in the south wing when he heard a voice coming from a guest room.

“... got all night with the pretty little Mudblood. Bet she’ll moan real good fer me, too. All of them are right sluts underneath,” the voice of Fenrir Greyback rumbled, and Draco moved closer to the partially closed door, looking through the crack, his curiosity getting the better of him.  

“Bu-bu-but the Dark Lord left it to Bellatrix to get information from the girl. It won’t do if she’s too damaged, Greyback,” came the simpering voice of Wormtail who fretted about the room like an uncaged rat.

“I’m not gonna kill her, ya dungheap, just play with her a bit, maybe get a little bite in. Virgins always taste the best.” And with that Draco darted from his spot, half-running to his rooms and shutting the door with shaking hands.

At half past eleven he finally stood from his chair, straightened his back and headed to the cellar.

\-----------------

“Granger?” His whisper seemed terribly loud in the silence of the cellar stairwell. He descended quickly, wishing to be in and out with Granger in tow before his aunt was the wiser. What Greyback was planning for the muggleborn...Draco couldn’t stand the thought of it. Granger was the worst sort of know-it-all swot and smug mudblood, but did anyone deserve what the werewolf was planning to do to her? He had considered it for hours before he finally rose to action.

When Draco reached the bottom, the scene before him caused him to immediately halt. With his wand at the ready, he stood immobile in shock and disgust. Granger, still bloodied and shackled to the stone wall, knelt before Greyback, her head bobbing up and down as she worked her mouth over his large member. In the light of the torch above him, Greyback leaned against the wall between her chains, his eyes half closed, tongue licking his thin lips in pleasure.

With a growl resonating from deep within his chest, he grabbed a handful of Hermione’s unruly hair and pulled her head off him. Her mouth remained open, wet and glistening with spit, yet her dark eyes turned and bore into Draco’s, tear-filled and pleading. 

It only took Greyback a moment to follow her gaze to the foot of the stairs. "Wot the fuck do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?" 

As if blasted with an ice water hex, Draco came to his senses. He brought his wand up to  _ stupify  _ the werewolf, but he was too slow. It was suddenly wrenched from his hand and clattered across the cavernous cellar. In the span of a heartbeat, Draco dove to the ground for his wand, but again, Fenrir and his werewolf reflexes were faster. It was within a fingertip's reach, yet Draco fell short onto the uneven stone floor. His chin hit it hard and split open when the werewolf landed on top of him.

"Isn't this just darling,” Greyback purred in his ear. “Here to rescue the damsel, lover boy? Answer me!" Draco panted as his arm was twisted painfully behind him, feeling as if it were about to snap.

"Yes," Draco hissed, and the powerful arm gripping his elbow pulled harder until he cried out. Greyback didn’t speak for a few moments, just breathed heavily as he lay across Draco’s back, and unexpectedly loosened his grip.

With a dark chuckle, Greyback dug his wand into Draco’s throat. "I think I have a better idea.  _ Imperio  _ !"

The dark magic of the curse coursed through him with the power of an unstoppable train engine, and Draco gasped when it struck his mind. He was at once floating away from his body with the vaguest sense that he was in pain. The terror and anxiety that had just filled him seemed so distant and obscure he wasn’t sure why he had felt it at all.

Hopping to his feet, the werewolf meandered to the wall where Hermione was still on her knees. "Both of you stand up," he ordered.

_ NO!  _ A voice screamed, small and terror-filled, in the back of Draco’s mind, but as much as he tried to fight it, his body did as it was commanded, and he stood up from where he lay sprawled on the stone. Hermione’s chains rattled as she rose as well.

Greyback brought his wand to each of her shackled wrists, releasing her. His smirk became wider as his eyes raked over her disheveled figure. "Take your clothes off. Both of you." 

Again his body betrayed him as his mind protested, and Draco's hands began pulling off his jumper, unbuttoning his trousers, untying his shoelaces. At the last piece, his hands shook as his thumbs hooked under the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. His eyes remained on the grey stone of the cellar floor as he heard the rustle of clothing being tossed aside, indicating Granger had finished disrobing as well.

“C’mere, Malfoy,” the werewolf growled, and he obeyed, his bare feet padding softly to the wall where Granger had been chained. Looking up, he saw Greyback towering over her, one dirty hand rolling her hard, rosy nipple between his fingers.

_ He's going to rape her,  _ was Draco's dull thought, only remotely aware of the panic spreading in the back of his mind and causing his breath to quicken.

“You ever been with a woman before? Tell me the truth, boy.”

His mind fuzzily flipped through memories of fumbling hands in the dark, hurried kisses and smooth, soft skin. Early last summer Pansy had allowed him to take off her shirt, to touch and lick her breasts and weigh them in his hands. That had been the furthest they'd gone in that summer that seemed a lifetime ago. Draco doubted that was what Greyback meant.   

“No,” was his mechanical response.

Greyback sneered and continued his assault on Granger’s breasts, roughly pulling and tweaking them both now as she stood rigidly still. Without his mind’s consent, his body started to react to the scene before him. A flush crept up his pale chest to his cheeks, and his flaccid member began to stir at the sight of Granger’s naked body in the dim torchlight. Despite her cut and swollen lip and the word carved into her forearm, she was otherwise unharmed. Outwardly, anyway. It seemed his aunt Bella’s torture had been mostly magical; that type of dark magic left invisible scars, he knew. She was thinner than he recalled her ever being, and as he unwillingly feasted upon her form, he couldn’t help but feel lust swell within him at the sight of the dark curls between her jutting hips and her firm, full breasts being fondled by the werewolf who now held a nipple between his lips.

“When I was yer age, I’d already fucked a dozen girls,” Greyback said, and to Draco's mild surprise, he took a step backward, his long fingernails rasping over Granger’s flesh before pulling away altogether.

“I’m going to do you a kindness, boy. Had planned on takin’ her myself,” Greyback’s face contorted into a cruel smile, “but this is gonna be much more entertaining.” With that, the werewolf seized Draco, pulling him closer to the immobile girl. Now he stood facing her, a half-head taller and close enough to feel her hot breath on his collarbone.

_ No, no no….  _ Draco’s mind chanted like a incantation, as if it could stop the way his body was reacting, stop the dark magic suppressing his free will.

“Like what you see, then?” And Draco’s body froze when the werewolf suddenly gripped his half-hard cock, jerking the foreskin up and down until he was fully erect and poking Granger’s stomach. The contact with her soft skin on his sensitive, exposed head was electric, and sent shockwaves of pleasure down to his balls and up his spine, adding to the cloud of euphoria that surrounded his cursed mind. He couldn’t look into her eyes.

“Stick yer fingers up her cunt; make her good and ready,”Greyback commanded and released his member. To Granger he said, “Open your legs a bit, yeah like that, good girl. Bet yer as slippery as a wet eel already.”

Draco did as he was told and, lifting his hand, he carded his fingers through the wiry thatch of her mons until they reached her inner folds. As one finger gently delved upward into her core, he was surprised to find that she was wet, and a part of him was bitterly pleased that he wasn’t the only one reacting to the attentions on their bodies. A shaky gasp followed by the smallest of moans interrupted him from his task, and Draco glanced down at her in surprise.

Their eyes met for the second time since Draco had entered the damnable cellar. Granger’s brows were creased, her brown eyes wide-open and haunting in their abject panic. He knew she too was silently screaming, her mind rallying pointlessly against a body that would not obey. She was trapped, muted, terrified. Just like him. He could see himself reflected in those chocolate pools, see his expression frozen in dread. A mirror to hers.

"Is she tight?" The taunting voice invaded Draco’s thoughts once more. He had added a second finger moments before, and her tight inner walls were barely wide enough to let them in as he pushed them in and out of her wet channel.

“Yes.”

"Are you a virgin, Hermione?" The debauched creature mockingly asked her, and she gave a little nod of affirmation. Her head was down now, her face flush and warm as she panted and thrust her hips ever so slightly in time with his pumping fingers.

Abruptly, Greyback snatched Draco’s hand away from her, bringing the glistening fingers to his mouth and sucking on them. Draco’s mind revolted at the feeling of the vile tongue licking her juices off of him.

Letting his hand fall away, the werewolf chuckled and licked his lips obscenely. His dark eyes twinkled with malice as he said, “Love the flavor of a virgin. They taste so sweet and innocent.

“Now before we start, take this,” Greyback reached into his trouser pocket and he handed Draco a small stoppered vial filled with mint green liquid. ”Nicked it from yer father’s stores. Go on, drink up.” And he did, the fluid going down smoothly and tasting of the briny sea. “Was gonna use it myself, but change of plans.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Can you imagine what ol’ Lucius would say if he saw what you two was doin’ down here? His pretty pureblood son finger deep in a Mudblood?”

He grabbed a handful of Draco’s pale hair, pulling him far enough back that his neck was exposed. “What d’you think he’d do, huh? Worthless coward always looking down on me with that damn sneer.” The werewolf lowered his face so that he was looking directly into Draco’s unblinking grey eyes, a growl rumbling in his throat. “When the full moon comes, I’m lookin’ for you, boy. See if your old man keeps sneering when his son is just like me.”  

Greyback released his hair and took a step backward, and Draco strang upright again. “She’s ready enough. Hermione, lay down. Draco, show this Mudblood how it ought to be."

Hysterically, his mind shouted,  _ Don’t do this, stop! Grab your wand, stun him, punch him, run! Don’t do this...  _ but soon after Granger had laid on the frigid stone ground, Draco followed, laying on top of her, his skin burning where they touched. His rigid cock ground against the smooth skin of her hip, and he felt her stomach tremble beneath him. Shifting her hips apart, he rose above her slightly. Taking his cock in hand, he lowered himself to her entrance. As the head of his shaft gently nudged her wet lips apart, he stopped for the briefest of seconds and gazed down at her.

The part of him that was sealed in the back of his own head tried to convey to her through his eyes how sorry he was, how he didn’t want this to happen either, how he was trying so very hard to free himself of this dark power. If she understood any of that, her own brown eyes did not give any indication as they stared above him, unseeing.

Draco slowly pushed his hips forward until just the head of his cock had passed her opening. He paused, and, with a groan, continued driving forward until he was fully sheathed within her, heedless of her heavy panting and whimpers of pain. Granger was stiff beneath him, her blunt nails digging painfully into his upper arms. The tears that gathered in her brown eyes rolled down her cheeks as he withdrew and thrust into her again.

How many nights had he lay on his bed, stroking himself and imagining his hand was the wet, pulsing sheath of a woman? In his fantasies, the woman he plunged into was willing and wanton, her eyes hooded in pleasure while she moaned delightfully in time with his ministrations. Sex was an act of passion, heated and erotic. This was nothing like that. This act was bloodless, devoid of life and fire. The woman beneath him wasn’t supposed to be motionless and crying, wasn’t supposed to be clutching him out of pain and not pleasure. It was wrong, all wrong, but he couldn’t stop his hips as they jerked and thrust into her all encompassing heat. He couldn’t deny how incredible she felt, how her hot channel clenched him more exquisitely than he had ever imagined, the way her soft breasts pressed into him, bouncing at his thrusts.

Draco gave in to the euphoria of the curse and let his mind drift away as his body continued its unwilling assault on the girl beneath him. A chaotic collection of images flashed through his brain - his parents’ terrified faces; Pansy’s small, pert breasts; his fingers reaching for the snitch.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before his mental disassociation came to sudden end, and he was present again, moaning and ramming into her erratically as an orgasm ripped through him. Draco threw his head back at the ecstatic feeling of it, shivering in ardent bliss as he spilled his seed into the searing heat of her womb.   

After what seemed like a lifetime, he fell upon her in sweaty exhaustion, his heart beating too loudly in his ears. Draco’s body was still buzzing with pleasure, his mind simultaneously elated and horrified at what he had done. Tears stung his eyes unwillingly as he pulled out of Hermione’s body and heaved himself up to lay at her side.

_ Rape  _ . He had committed rape. The girl beside him was silent and unmoving. He would have thought her asleep if not for the rapid rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed. 

“Lasted longer than I thought you would,” Greyback sniggered to his right, and Draco turned his eyes from Hermione to glance at him. The werewolf was naked and sitting back on his haunches, his thick, veiny cock in one hand. In one swift movement, he leapt from his spot in front of the pair to kneel between Hermione’s spread thighs. Greyback’s finger skimmed up and down her swollen lips, bringing the blood-covered digit to his nose and inhaling deeply. “Wasn’t lying about being a virgin, huh?”

Feeling the vaguest sense of horror, Draco looked down at his still-enlarged cock that was now pink with the combination of their fluids. Semen, lubrication, blood...  _ Her dirty blood. _

“With that draught I gave you, we’ll be able to have fun all night,” Greyback informed him as he positioned himself above Hermione. “But for now, it’s my turn.”

With all the willpower he could muster, Draco forced his head from the side to look upward. He wasn’t sure his stomach could handle watching that beast roughly plough in and out of the girl whom he just…

_ Raped. Raped. Raped. _

Bile rose up regardless as the fleshy slaps echoed across the cellar in time with the werewolf’s grunts. Slipping back into the euphoria the curse induced did little to silence the awful sounds or calm the dread that swelled in Draco’s mind. Her every whimper, painful cry, or sob was amplified to his frozen ears until at last with a throaty bellow, Greyback lay still above her.

“Fuck!” Draco jumped at the beast’s sudden exclamation, listening as Greyback stood and hurriedly dressed himself. He saw the werewolf gripping his arm as he passed on the way to the cellar stairs. "Now, how about you two take a little rest and don't go nowhere. I'll be back soon," he said grumpily, the door slamming shut behind him.

Draco couldn’t tell how much time had passed he lay there shivering and waiting. Nothing moved around them, nor sounds were heard above them as they lay naked, dreadfully awaiting their tormentor’s return. The chill from the freezing stones crept up from his naked backside through his body, leaving him shivering uncontrollably.  

Suddenly, something moved to Draco’s left, sending a thrill of terror through the fog of the  _ Imperius  _ curse  _. He’s back!  _ He thought and squished his eyes shut in trepidation. There was a shuffling beside him, a soft feminine cry, more shuffling.  

"Malfoy!" A hoarse voice whispered urgently above him and an icy hand gripped his shoulder. His eyes fly open, gazing at the pale, determined face of Hermione.  _ How…? _ His befogged mind pondered. Her hand shook his shoulder harder. “Draco, please, you have to fight the curse. We need to get out of here. He’ll be back soon. Please, get up!"  

Draco watched as she draped his shirt over his privates and knelt at his side. Hermione hovered over him, whispering encouragement to help break the curse’s hold. “Just concentrate! Focus on your own mind, your own body. Try wiggling your fingers, your toes. You need to try harder!”

But through all of her words and his efforts, Draco’s mind refused to yield to his control.  _ Move, move, MOVE!  _ He mentally screamed, his toe just barely twitching. His body continued to remain utterly unmoving under Greyback’s last command to stay put.

Her whispers were becoming frantic. “Please, PLEASE! If you don’t….I don’t know how to get out of here, and he’ll be back soon...”

Draco’s heart jumped.  _ No!  _ He screamed, unheard, and doubled his efforts to be free of the dark curse that restrained his free-will. The fog shifted and changed, seemingly gripping him tighter as he made every effort to be free. As he fought, his thoughts were becoming louder, less disjointed and vague. His own mind came sharply into focus as he came back to himself fully and with it the pain and terror of what had happened. His chin and arm throbbed, his body numb and half frozen.

Draco snapped upwards, knocking over Hermione who was still hovering over him. “Gran...ger…” he stammered as she scrambled up to retrieve his clothing. Draco stiffly stood and put them on as she looked away, gripping his wand in her hand.

“I didn’t think you would...nevermind. We need to get out of here,” Hermione stated, rushing forward toward the stairs. Draco grabbed her arm to stop her, but she pulled back. “Don’t touch me!,” she nearly shrieked, pointing his wand at his face, her expression one of panic.

“Not that way,” Draco said, turning his back to her and heading to the furthest corner in the back of the cellar. Hermione stared at him curiously as he knocked three times and placed his hand upon the stone, leaning near it to whisper an incantation. A small circle of green light formed and slowly expanded, becoming brighter when the circle's diameter reached two meters. The light extinguished suddenly, and in its place was a circular hole leading to a downwards sloping tunnel.

Hermione stepped closer, looking down into the dark pit. “Where does -”

“The tunnel will lead you deep under the grounds of the Manor. You’ll find a small teacup there. It’s a portkey. It will take you to our safehouse in Cornwall. You can apparate from there,” Draco stated, turning his back to her and walking towards the stairs.  

“Wait,” she murmured, clutching his shoulder. Draco felt her cold hand through the fabric of his jumper. "Come with me. When they find me missing, they’re going to -"

"I can’t leave my parents,” he interrupts, shrugging her hand from him without turning around. “What do you think He’ll will do to them if i go missing, too?"

“Draco, you-”

“Just go!” He nearly shouts, and after a moment’s pause, he hears her lift herself into the tunnel and disappear into its depths. In a flash of light, the hole becomes solid stone once again.

_ My wand...  _ Draco briefly laments as he numbly walks up the stairs to the cellar door.

* * *

**A/N -**

Besides changing the scene of what happened at Malfoy Manor and Harry NOT stealing Draco’s wand, this story is compliant with Deathly Hallows except for the epilogue. I also know that with the Imperius curse, people have no control over their eyes, but I changed that a bit here. They can move their eyes, but nothing else and still have the euphoric, out-of-body feeling.

Rape victims deal with trauma differently from one to the next. Hermione, IMO, would suppress the memory of the incident to prioritize finding and destroying the hallows and keep it from her friends so they wouldn’t get distracted from the mission. This repression will come to a head in the next story.

I know some people will be very upset with the fact that I decided to write the rape from Draco’s POV rather than Hermione’s. I needed to convey what his motivations were for going down to free her, and that this terrible experience was also against his will - he was also raped. There will be A LOT more of Hermione’s POV in the sequel, and we’ll find out the ramifications of this act then.   

 


End file.
